


Sunday

by AmyriadfthINGs



Category: Empire (TV 2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Kitchen Sex, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Quickies, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyriadfthINGs/pseuds/AmyriadfthINGs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamal is tired from running the Empire and Ryan returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday

Jamal wakes with the hook for a new song in his head. He fumbles for his phone, because he has to hold on to every song he can get these days. He finds the phone under his pants by the bed where it slipped from its pocket last night. He quickly records the melody before he can lose it in the process of waking up. He tries to remember his schedule for the day, so he can figure out if he has to hurry to get up or if he is already late for the Empire´s demands. In the last couple of days his mind has become jumbled, the days flowing into each other, nameless, dateless, endlessly long and exhausting. His nerves have started to show, he has jumped down people´s throats. His family´s mostly. He has become what he never wanted to be, but maybe, just maybe today doesn´t have to be like that.

He looks at his phone to get an idea of this day. Sunday. Almost ten o´clock. Relief flows through him. He closes his eyes again, relaxes back into his ridiculously smooth satin pillows. For the first time he notices the sound of the shower. He sinks back further, willing to burrow back into the sheets and undo any waking up completely. 

Ryan came back last night. He called on the way from the airport to see if the coast was clear and if Jamal wanted to see him.

“Can you stop on the way and get Italian? I´m starving. And yes I want to see you, of course. Hurry up, please.” He hoped Ryan understood his priorities. He´d hardly eaten all day.

Ryan showed up half an hour later, he must have been close to the restaurant when he called; there could be no other explanation. The thought made Jamal immensely grateful, though he wasn´t quite sure for what exactly, or why. Ryan was there in his door, and he was a normal person and smelled of airplane and food and Ryan. Jamal forgot he was hungry and peeled off all clothes that stood in the way between him and his lover´s skin.

They did it standing up against the kitchen counter. Ryan let him take over and bite all of his back and neck, shoulders, throat and any other places he needed to taste. Some part of Jamal probably still remembered how hungry he was. He pumped into Ryan from behind and brought him off with his hand at the same time. It was hard, fast and almost uncomfortable. Jamal needed it so much. Ryan keened against him. Open, urgent sounds were falling from both of them in a staccato rhythm that would not harmonize. Not that they cared or tried.

Jamal came embarrassingly fast and noted dimly that he pushed Ryan hard enough against the counter top to make him swear. He dropped his forehead on Ryan´s shoulder and stayed there until he recovered a little. “Sorry,” he whispered into the warm skin that hadn´t even had time to break out in sweat. Ryan turned around, considered him, and dropped a light kiss on his lips. “You alright, babe? Sweet of you to get my blood flowing after my flight, but I hope you´re prepared for some repeat action a little later? Also, I´ve missed you.” Another kiss, lingering this time, finally a proper hello. “Let´s only eat and fuck tonight, okay?” Ryan sounded tired. Jamal nodded. “Yeah, okay. I´ve missed you, too.”

They ate. They fucked. They slept. Jamal woke up with a new song in his head that he´s now going to sing to Ryan in the shower. He swallows a lot of water and cock. Afterwards they go back to bed, drying off between the sheets, curling up in each other. They become as small as they can be while making the bed around them that much bigger. Eventually there will have to be breakfast. 

Jamal thinks he will be fine as long as he keeps his head empty enough for only one fact to stick: Sunday. Today is Sunday. And nothing else counts.


End file.
